


Never Enough

by PeniG



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: COVID-19, Other, Pandemic - Freeform, Repercussions, Why are guardian angels so ineffective, a dramatic reading by me, miraculous healing, talking heads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23499253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeniG/pseuds/PeniG
Summary: First it's bad, and then you have to explain to a juvenile ex-antichrist why you're not doing a better job making things less bad.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 119





	Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

> The story of the Broad Street Pump is told in-depth in *The Ghost Map: The Story of London's Most Terrifying Epidemic - and How It Changed Science, Cities, and the Modern World,* Steven Johnson, Riverhead Books, Penguin Group (USA), New York, 2006.
> 
> Apologies to anyone who is just trying to get away from thinking about this stuff right now. Stay safe and keep away from everybody else to keep them safe, too, and we'll get through this.

_Night on Bald Mountain plays._

“Oh! That’s Adam. Where did I - ? Yes, here we go. And it’s in the -“

“Right in the - here -“

“I can do it! Keep your eyes on the road! There! Hello! Oh, drat, why isn’t it - Hello?”

_“You could fix it.”_

“Good morning to you, too, young man!”

_“Sorry. Hi, Mr. Fell, it’s Adam. Everything’s terrible.”_

“Not quite _everything_ , but yes, the world is in a pretty comprehensive pickle right now, I agree.”

“Put him on speaker, angel! It’s the one -“

“Yes, I can _see_ it, hang on. Crowley’s here, too, we’re in the car. I’m pushing the picture that lets you talk to both of us.”

_“So you can both hear me now?”_

“Loud and clear, Hellboy. What’s up?”

_“I was just, I was thinking - you could fix it.”_

“I’m afraid you’ll need to be a little more specific, my dear. If you mean the pandemic, no, we can’t. You’re the only entity currently walking the earth who’s ever held that kind of power, and you wisely abdicated it.”

“Ouch, go easy on the kid!”

“What? It’s the truth. Not even a new one for him. He created an entire populated continent at one time, but he can’t anymore, and that’s a _good_ thing. Everyone approves. He knows this.”

_“Yeah, okay, but, you could fix part of this, right? Like, just for here?”_

“That depends. By ‘here’ do you mean Europe? Great Britain? England? Tadfield? Your house?”

_“...I dunno. How much of that could you do?”_

“Ah. Well. That is in fact a question to which we have given some considerable thought. It’s not an exact science, but if Crowley and I tag-teamed each other and spent our off-shifts restoring our power levels as aggressively as possible - which presents its own logistical challenges, given quarantine - we could, probably, if we chose the correct vector points and -“

“He doesn’t need all the math, angel! Yes, Adam, we’ve sweated it and we could probably cover England, Scotland, Wales, and the Channel Islands in three weeks or a month if we pulled out all the stops and didn’t make any mistakes. Ireland’s a separate problem because Aziraphale’d have to go there without me - I can’t set foot in the place. Not even Ulster. I’ve tried.”

_“Oh. So, that’s why you’re in the car, then? You’re going around doing that?”_

“Nope. We’re doing miraculous supply-and-blessing runs round places that aren’t getting what they need. People living in alleys, mostly. But I’m pulling over now because I have a feeling this is about to be a conversation the angel shouldn’t have at 90 miles per hour.”

“Thank you, dearest.”

“Hmph.”

“ _Okay. So, why’d you figure all that out if you’re not doing it?”_

“Because if one of us comes up with a brilliant reason why we shouldn’t _not_ do it we want to be ready to go.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Stop confusing the boy. You need to understand, Adam, that Crowley and I have been in a lot of epidemics. Black plague, yellow fever, influenza, cholera - oh, so much cholera! - AIDS, smallpox, you name it, if it’s an infectious disease that’s run rampant, we’ve been through it. And we hate them. With a burning passion. So at some point, during every single one, once we understood how transmission worked, we’ve sat down with a bottle and a map and made a plan for how we would go about stopping it in its tracks, if circumstances permitted. Once we’ve worked it out, it’s easier to stop fretting about it and to see where best to put in the efforts we _can_ make, once we’ve done all this.”

_“...But why shouldn’t you cure everybody?”_

“Ah. Well. Why didn’t you bring back the whales, when you had the chance?”

_“It...it wouldn’t have done any good. People’d keep killing them. And stop trying to save them, ‘cause they wouldn’t be running out of them anymore, until a bunch more were killed and we were right back where we started.”_

“Precisely.”

_“But - this is different.”_

“It isn’t.”

“He’s a kid, angel, and he’s not galaxy braining anymore. Tell him about the pump.” 

“Yes, excellent idea, thank you. Awhile back - goodness, going on for two hundred years now, how time flies - Soho, my neighborhood, you know, about which I feel very much the way you feel about Tadfield, had a cholera outbreak. Do you know what cholera is?”

_“Um. Something bad.”_

“Something very bad indeed. It starts with vomiting and proceeds to an extremely liquid diarrhea, liquid to the point that it doesn’t even smell and the only solids in it are little white bits like rice. Then the skin turns blue and leathery and the patient dies. Infection occurs when the patient ingests water polluted with cholera bacteria, normally by leakage of fecal matter into the drinking supply.”

_“What matter?”_

“Poo. Angels don’t like saying poo. It’s beneath them or something.”

_“Ew! But you wouldn’t drink water like that!”_

“You absolutely _would_ , my dear, if you didn’t _realize_ it was like that. These bacteria are incredibly small. They have no taste, and no smell. At the time I’m speaking of, the microscopy of the day wasn’t capable of sufficient magnification to render them visible. The only way to know - the only way for a human to know - that water was polluted with it, was to recognize that the people who drank it got sick.”

_“But you’re not human.”_

“Yes, very good, so when a particular cesspit near my bookshop started leaking into the water table I was the only person in the area who was aware of it. In those days city water wasn’t supplied directly to houses, but to public pumps from which people would draw water as they needed it. The particular pump in question, the Broad Street Pump, tapped into very good, fresh-tasting water, whereas other pumps in the area didn’t taste nearly so nice. People went out of their way to use it because of that. I used it myself, so I probably noticed the pollution almost as soon as it occurred. The leak didn’t change the taste at all, but it supplied enough cholera bacteria to kill those drinking it. Naturally, I contacted my superiors at once - remember I was working directly for Heaven at that time, I was not a free agent - asking for permission to take action, to bless the pump and/or fix the cesspit miraculously. I always did that when I detected a pestilence coming along, and I was always denied permission, but, well, I felt I had to try.”

_“Why wouldn’t they let you, though?”_

“Because Heaven is full of hypocritical wankers.”

“Crowley! Language!”

“What, wankers? He’s heard - that’s not even -“

“You’re setting a bad example. But. To answer the question. You see, Adam, disease was invented right after the Fall of Mankind, the business with the apple, you know, in an attempt to, er, keep humans busy. So to speak. It’s - hard to explain, the mindset at that time, and it’s impossible for me to tell you which elements of policy originated with God and which came from lower down in the chain of command, but, Someone decided that the problem in Eden was that the humans didn’t have enough to occupy themselves with and that led them to sin out of, out of boredom. So the dangers and difficulties of the post-Edenic world were intended not so much as punishments as, as tests and challenges that would engage humanity’s creativity and intelligence in overcoming the ills that beset them rather than in mere random mischief-making.”

“Which really hasn’t paid off the way they wanted it to.”

“That’s as may be. We appear to be stuck with it now. In any case, diseases were created so that humanity would study the world to prevent, cure, and destroy them. That part of the project has, more or less, worked, albeit at an excruciatingly slow pace with lots of backsliding. By the mid-nineteenth century I was almost in despair about it, myself. Plenty of people were working, very hard, on the problem of contagion, but they weren’t getting anywhere because everybody was determinedly barking up the wrong tree. Most European theories were based on the idea of miasma, which was essentially the notion that disease was caused by bad smells, which - “

“Angel -“

“Ah. Right, right, that’s a whole rant we don’t need to go into. So. Due to that overarching consideration, an angel on the ground in an epidemic is limited to setting a good example, encouraging any humans they encounter down any useful trails of thought or along courses of behavior that have a chance of being effective, and, um, easing the passing of the dying when possible.”

_“That stinks.”_

“It does. A great deal. So, back to the story, without permission to fix the problem at its source I had to wait and do the best I could, trying to convince the property owner to clean out and repair his cesspit, making sure that everyone understood that I had the eccentric habit of making sure all my water was boiled before I drank it, encouraging _here_ and setting a good example _there_ and my neighbors were _dying_ and it was _dreadful,_ as always. But. Here is the important point. Two of my neighbors, a doctor and a clergyman, did a lot of very troublesome and detailed work, gathering data about the outbreak, about who got sick and who didn’t, and they made a map from that data which showed, with astounding clarity, that the households which used the Broad Street Pump and the households that had cholera deaths corresponded very closely.”

_“Except yours.”_

“Except mine, yes, but remember I made a point of everyone knowing that I always boiled my water. That made my household an anomaly that pointed them in the right direction instead of confusing them. So the water from that pump was identified as the problem, and the pump handle was removed so no one could draw water anymore, and the cholera stopped. Moreover - in hindsight, though it didn’t seem so at the time - _that_ cholera outbreak and _that_ map proved to be the turning point in understanding how cholera was transmitted, which led to changes in how cities are built and run, so that we don’t have cholera outbreaks in Britain anymore. Whereas if I’d used a miracle on that pump as I so badly wanted to do - well. We don’t know. How much longer it would have taken. It had already taken far too long.”

_“Okay. But we already know how this corona stuff gets around and it’s still getting around.”_

“Yes. It wouldn’t be, nearly so much, if people followed medical advice, and governments gave higher priority to public health, and so on and so forth. It’s not _ignorance_ that’s the problem this time, but _behavior_. Exactly as it is with the whales. If Crowley and I implemented our plan and eradicated the disease from Britain, wouldn’t that confirm the people who refuse to observe quarantine in their feeling that it doesn’t matter what they do? Wouldn’t the people cutting corners at the NHS be encouraged by the unexpected termination of the disease to continue cutting corners? Wouldn’t -”

_“Okay. Okay! I get it!”_

“Believe me, I’ve spent much of the last few months trying to get around that. I’m within an inch of deciding that I don’t care. Whales I’ve never met are one thing; people I know suffering and dying in crowded wards without enough ventilators are quite another. I’ve got _power_ and I’ve got _freedom_ and what is the _use_ of them if - if -”

“Breathe, angel. Who’s sick, kid?”

_“...Who says anybody’s sick?”_

“You’re a kid. None of this was real to you last time we talked to you. Now it suddenly is. So who do you know that’s got it?”

_“My grandmum. She only has a little cough and can’t get tested and she says it might not even be that, but - Mum’s crying.“_

“Yeah. Tough one.”

“Not tested? Where is she?”

_“In Swindon.”_

“That’s not far. Not the way you drive.”

“Angel -“

“And if she’s not tested yet, she wouldn’t even appear in the statistics -“

_“Would you -“_

“Both of you! Stop it!”

“It’s only _one_ healing. We could afford to do _one_ healing.”

“But you won’t stop at one, will you? Once you’ve started? Pepper’s aunt, Brian’s favorite teacher, Tom, Dick, Harry.”

“Madame Tracy? Shadwell?”

“The Shadwells aren’t going to get sick. You’ve hung so many blessings on them they’ll outlive us all.”

“I know I made you promise not to let me get carried away but - one healing _isn’t_ getting carried away. And and and - Adam’s the, the representative of humanity here. Isn’t he? The point is not to interfere with humanity’s development, but Adam -”

_“Could you teach me to do it? Like Anathema’s teaching me witchcraft? I can almost see auras, you know.”_

“Oh. Oh, now, that is an excellent idea. I don’t know if the residual power you’ve still got is trainable that way, but we won’t know until we try.”

“His parents aren’t going to break quarantine to let us in to teach him to be a faith healer.”

“ _Could we do it over Skype?”_

“Maybe? I dunno? We can try.”

_“I don’t know how I’d get to Swindon, though. How long would it take to teach me?”_

“I’m afraid there’s no way of knowing ahead of time. If -“

“Oi, angel, isn’t that one of your lot? The chewing gum lady? We were looking for her, right?”

“Oh, yes, it is - excuse me, Adam, I’ll be back in a jiff - hand me that box, dear?”

“Mask!”

“Yes, of course, thank you. Yoo-hoo, Annie!” 

“Okay, this woman could talk the hind leg off a donkey, so we’ve got a minute. I get where you’re coming from, Adam. I do. You wouldn’t be human if you didn’t want to use any means you have, including us, to save the people you love.”

“ _But you’re not gonna do it, are you?”_

 _“Hfff, glsk_ , here’s the thing. We are. Probably. He’s got the bit in his teeth now and he’d have to walk to get to Swindon on his own so _theoretically_ I could stop him, only he’s good at getting round me so it’d probably be a waste of effort. And our old sides’ rules don’t matter to us any more, which is great and all. But - The angel doesn’t have - he - there’s no _middle_ with him. He’s either _in_ or he’s _out_ , and when he’s in he’s _all in_. Once he commits to something he’ll do anything necessary to it.”

 _“I know. Like when he shot me._ ”

“Yeah, but the thing is, you _don’t_ know. You’ve never _seen_ him, just that glimpse, and there’s no _way_ you could know how - healing your gran, it’ll be like, like when you tell yourself you’re only going to eat one crisp or something and the next thing you know the bag’s empty and you’re too full for supper and you have a belly ache all night. Only in his case, he’ll heal your Gran and in the next flat or house or car there’ll be somebody else and he’ll do that real quick, think he can slip it past me, but then there’ll be another and another and another. Because for him - he’s - they’re all his gran, all right? He literally loves everybody he sees. Some of us more than others, and he’s used to having to keep the brakes on all the time, so most of the time he can deal. But you give him the excuse to take the brake off and _wham_! He’ll go full speed ahead, he won’t eat and he’ll use up his personal reserve and he’ll keep pulling from the world and he’ll get, he’ll get red-eyed and haggard and his locus of power will get raw and he'll have AIDS flashbacks and won't have any strength for the normal epidemic stuff, the feeding people and comforting the dying and he'll feel terrible about _that,_ and the epidemiologists will start to notice and I’ll try to make him stop but it’ll be _oh just this one more person and then I promise_ \- but he _won’t_. He won’t be _able_ to stop himself. Until he crashes or I figure out how to cut him off, which ever comes first.”

_“Oh. And that’ll be my fault.”_

“ _No,_ no it _won’t_. It’ll be _his_ for not having the sense God gave a golf ball and mine for not - _You’re_ not responsible for what _we_ do. You’re a kid. All you wanted to do was save your gran and you’re doing it. Saving a whole bunch of random people you don’t know, too, and you need to understand what the cost of that is, because - look, what we said at Armageddoff, about being behind you whatever you decide, that didn’t have a time limit. If you ask us to perform miracles, yeah, we’ll probably do them unless there’s some huge offsetting factor or they’re just plain beyond us. So the next time you want to ask us for a favor, think about what it might cost, first. Think about if it’s worth it, talk to whoever you think can help you figure it out, and have them by you when you call us, and ask us about the cost.”

_“My grandmum’s worth it.”_

“I’m sure she is. And we’ll tell you up front if the cost is too high - well, I will, I can’t make a promise for Aziraphale. He tends to sell himself at a discount. Especially when the cost of _not_ doing something is a human life. _Everything_ has a cost, any way you look at it, and even _we_ can’t always know for sure what the cost will _be._ When he asked for permission to prevent that cholera epidemic he had no idea it'd be the one that made things click and neither did Heaven. The more power you have the harder it is to be sure you’re not doing too much and the easier it is to do too little. You knew this stuff when you were galaxy-braining at the airbase, but you can’t be expected still know it, but you’ll have to learn anyhow, all right?”

_“All right.”_

“All right, my dears, that’s Annie taken care of, and she told me where to find Dennis, and then we’ll be more than half done! Tell us your grandmother’s address, Adam, and we’ll have her right as rain by the end of the day.” 

“Angel -“

“Or by tomorrow, or the day after at latest, if I have to walk. I wonder if I can borrow a bicycle?”

“Arkhnk.”

_“Um, I don’t remember her address. I can look it up. Do you have to, like, touch her, or something?”_

“It will depend on the stage and severity of the infection. Odds are good that I’ll be able to do it from outside her house, though it would be easier if I could speak to her face to face. Across the prescribed social distance, of course!”

“Fine, if we’re doing this we need to get moving, so - you find that address and text it to us, Adam, and we’ll let you know when we’ve done it.”

_“Brilliant! Thanks!”_

“You’re more than welcome. This will be a nice little day jaunt. A change of pace. Won’t it, Crowley?”

“Whatever, angel, but tomorrow _I_ pick what we do.”

“Certainly, dearest, whatever you say.”

“Good-bye, Adam!”

_“Good-bye!”_

“...Crowley, I forget, does it automatically disconnect or do I need to hit another little picture?”

“Give it here, I’ll take care of it.”

“ _No,_ I need to learn how to do this, you can’t be forever - ah! Yes, it’s definitely off now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, yes, that’s disconnected, let’s get on. Where’s this Dennis got to, then?”


End file.
